Author's Note: A drabble written as part of the 30 Day Pokespe Challenge; I'm trying to write a little something for every day of it. Hopefully you enjoy this and the ones that follow!
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A Rogue, a Prince
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He's a rogue, they all know that. He's the punk that strolls into town, swipes a pastry or two, somehow knocks over the food cart in the process, and gets away without paying a dime. At eight years of age, Gold is a troublemaker, and he's proud of it.
He's the kid they take in for dinner without hesitation. The prince of the city, the cream of the crop. He's handsome and charming; the local girls all go home to tell their mothers of the cute boy who will some day sweep them off their feet, and the boys want to befriend him (even though he can be a jerk sometimes).
He knows Pokemon like the back of his hand. He's not too bright, but he knows what he's doing; he can befriend any Pokemon that he wants, from the wild Sentrets just outside the borders to the fully evolved battlers that trainers bring through town.
And at the tender age of eight, he can already hold his own in battle. Clumsy, unrefined, rash, his style is unpredictable and usually causes a lot of collateral damage. His tactics are as messy as his hair, and his ability to plan ahead is about as existent as his relationship with DJ Mary.
He'll grow up to be great, and he'll make them all proud. Gold and his Aitaro, they'll change the world, and everyone knows it.
He's a rogue, and they love him for it.